My eyes locked with my sparring partner. Benate was giving me quite a fight. He raised one eyebrow, momentarily making me lose focus. How could he be so confident in his capabilities that he did not have to give it all of his focus?
Benate took the chance to gain more ground. At this rate I would be standing in the middle of the ballroom as opposed to the gardens when he finished me off.
I finally started to form a plan. Simple as it seemed, I hoped that faking left and slicing right might give me the upper hand.
I braced for another hard hit before leaning toward the left. His sword blocked in that direction in anticipation. Thinking my plan worked, I leaned into my stroke.
Benate smirked and turned out of our close quarter battle to the left. This left my sword with nothing to hit. I stumbled forward looking like the buffoon that I generally felt like with a sword.
I felt the gentle nudge of a blunted blade across my back through the leather padding. Benate declared his victory softly. I dropped the practice sword as a further sign of my surrender.
Why was I not hearing any other sword strikes? I looked around to see the entirety of my training group and even some Falcons and Wolves who were finishing up their own drills with their eyes fixed upon us.
I glanced toward my father and uncle. Both were smiling and nodding approvingly. At times they were almost the same person. Were they approving of my opponent not holding back or of me kind of holding my own in that fight?
"Very nicely done. You have great instincts for openings, but make sure you know your next move when things fail. It happens to the best of us. That was a great work out," Benate encouragingly patted shoulder as he picked up the sword I dropped.
"Thank you," I reflexively said, not knowing if I was thanking him for the advice or for the sword hilt that was pushed into my palm.
"What are you doing?!" The shaggy haired man I fought before pointedly approached Benate.
"I'm sparring," Benate retorted as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Ready to go again, Jacobson? I haven't heard them call for a change of partners."
"That's Sir Jacobson," my former opponent continued pointing in my direction before Benate cut him off.
"My apologies. Sir Jacobson, would you like to start again?" Benate looked annoyed.
"No, I was not correcting the title. Although I should have. That's beside the point." My clansman looked flustered. "You cannot threaten the life of a royal!"
"You just said he's Sir Jacobson. I did not hear Prince Jacobson or King Jacobson. He's not a royal yet and I'm sure his father taught him the risks of being on this field," The clansman of Bear gave a lopsided grin. "Also, did you not just spar with him?"
"I didn't… I mean… that is to say… What will Lord Holden think when he hears of your behavior?" His shaggy hair fell into his face, making the man's question lose some of its gusto.
"I'll let you know next time he's in town and you can ask him. He usually stays in my spare room." Benate put the other man in his place. Apparently proximity to a Swordsman deserved some amount of respect. Maybe not as much respect as someone close to royalty.
"I'll tell the king!" My clansman tried out the only option he had left.
I had enough. "Tell him what? That a countryman from the clan of Bear is the only one man enough to help me make sure I can defend myself if attacked? Training is the only way that I can improve and making a mockery of that process only hurts Ensis!" My anger roared. I was not helpless, but I did still need help.
"Please, clansmen and countrymen. Take these chances seriously. Give it your all. It is up to us to defend the helpless and the innocent. Holding back or refusing to learn from others is foolishness." My impassioned appeal made me the focus of all. I squirmed in my own skin.
Captain Gunnar caught my attention. His face was downcast and ashamed. I should not have reprimanded his actions in front of everyone. That was not good form.
I spotted Alina and Cali in the gardens. I only hope the lack of action on the practice field is what drew their gaze and not me scolding everyone around me.
"Lord Jacob, you raised a good man." Benate sang my praise. At least I earned someone's respect.
I had not noticed my father and uncle approach. They flanked me, challenging anyone who might dare to refute my words.
"That I did," My father agreed before addressing the crowd. "Everyone back to your drills!"
I started walking back to square off with Benate. I hoped that I had learned enough from our first match to not embarrass myself as much.
"Where are you going, Jack?" My uncle inquired.
For the millionth time today, I was lost. "I thought that I was sparring with Benate?" Life was exhausting.
"Maybe you will, but first we should talk." My father took me to the side. "John, can you go fight the Bear?"
My uncle beamed. "Certainly". He oozed excitement. Guess he was tired of mainly fighting me.
We walked closer to the gardens. "Jack, what did you just learn?"
Why does everything have to be a lesson? "Can we just go back to the days where Uncle John just beats me to a pulp? I'm starting to miss that."
My father chuckled. "Why are you missing that?" He had so many questions.
I thought for a moment. "I know Uncle John won't let me win."
"When you're close to power, suddenly you're the funniest, most clever man in the room. Everyone wants to laugh at your jokes and hear your opinions. Make sure those closest to you can tell you the truth. Allow grace for well intended mistakes and forgive yourself and others when possible." My father always had a lesson lately. How is there so much I don't know?